Ga-re  \ 


No-  99-  » i 

L-  ! -ill 

^^SXomau's  c‘tuioii  Htisslouuvtj 
i*ocicttv  . ^ 

A TIMELY  GIFT. 

B}'  Miss  R (^rel, 

MISSIONARY  IN  THE  PRIUGMAN  MEMORIAE  HOME, 
SHANGHAI. 

The  American  Tract  Society,  of  New 
York,  has  sent  us  repeatedly  dona- 
tions for  distributing  Christian  litera- 
ture. Nothing  could  be  more  helpful  in  this 
dark  land  as  a means  of  spreading  light. 

Come  with  me,  this  beautiful  Sabbath 
morning,  while  I take  a walk  through  the 
native  city  of  Shanghai.  VVhat  is  to  be  seen  ? 
Numberless  low,  tile-roofed  houses,  in  which 
live  thousands  of  suffering,  ignorant  heathen. 
Over  yonder  stands  the  massive,  gloomy 
temple.  Smell  the  incense  ; see  the  hideous 
Buddha,  surrounded  by  his  lesser  gods;  and 


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watch  the  lazy  unprincipled  priests.  Just 
now  they  are  having  their  ritual,  ringing 
bells  and  chanting  prayers.  Although  it  is 
the  Christian’s  Sabbath,  there  are  few  signs 
of  it  in  this  ancient  city,  for  heathenism, 
like  a vulture,  broods  over  the  place.  Oh  ! 
saddest  of  sights, — a land  without  a Sab- 
bath ! 

On  the  higher  ground,  surrounding  the 
city  wall,  are  the  houses  of  the  rich.  -Into 
them  a foreigner  can  rarely  enter.  This 
morning  they  are  thrown  open  to  let  in  the 
warm  bright  sunlight,  that  shines  alike  over 
the  just  and  over  the  unjust. 

What  sight  is  this?  In  the  low,  broad 
dark  room  of  one  of  the  houses  sits  a little 
Chinese  mother.  What  is  it  she  pores  over? 
It  is  a book.  Yes,  the  beautiful  illustrated 
stories  of  David  and  our  living  Christ ! On 
the  table  too,  are  some  tracts.  But  what 
will  she  do  ? She  cannot  read,  and,  for  once 
in  all  in  her  life,  she  wishes  that  she  could. 
The  pictures  are  so  beautiful,  they  must 
mean  something  wonderful ! 

Listen  ! she  calls  her  sons,  the  blessing  of 


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a Chinese  woman.  Here  they  come,  their 
almond  eyes  filled  with  wonder.  They  can 
read  ; and  our  Heavenly  Father  is  using 
these  heathen  lads  to  disseminate  His  Word. 
Think  you  that  these  boys  will  ever  forget 
the  story  of  Christ?  “My  Word  shall  not 
return  unto  me  void.”  Surely  His  ways  are 
wondrous  ways;  His  Word  goes  where  His 
servants  cannot  go. 

Perhaps  it  will  interest  you  to  know  how 
that  literature  reached  this  special  woman. 
Just  a little  outside  of  West  Gate  are  our 
Bridgman  Memorial  School  and  Chapel. 
Here  every  Sunday  a small  but  zealous  body 
of  Christians  meet  in  prayer  and  praise  to 
the  one  living  and  true  God.  Look  in  upon 
the  congregation  this  morning ; there  are 
some  new  faces  to  be  seen — four.^five,  six 
strong  handsome-looking  men.  We  can  tell 
by  their  dress  that  they  are  soldiers.  One 
of  them  is  a friend  of  the  family  living  in  the 
house,  at  whose  open  door  a while  ago  we 
stood,  who  took  them  the  Gospel  story; 
and  this  is  how  he  came  by  it. 

In  the  Arsenal,  about  a mile  outside  of 


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Shanghai,  lies  the  dead  body  of  the  Marquis 
Tseng.  How  long  it  remains  there  will  de- 
pend upon  what  the  gods  say.  Of  course, 
every  one  knows  who  the  Marquis  T.seng 
was — the  noted  Chinese  ofificial  whose  death 
has  been  mourned  alike  by  native  and 
foreigner.  A man  of  unbounded  influence  ; 
a genuine  patriot,  yet  in  thorough  sympathy 
with  Western  education  and  enterprise.  At 
one  time  he  was  Minister  to  France,  where 
his  title  was  conferred  upon  him  ; at  another 
he  was  Minister  to  England.  He  was  the 
brother  of  Lady  Blossom,  the  wife 'of  the 
great  Mandarin  of  Shanghai,  and  the  father 
of  Lady  Nye,  who  attracted  much  attention 
when  abroad. 

He  welcomed  the  foreigner,  because  he 
hoped  some  day  to  see  bridges  built,  rail- 
roads laid  out,  and  systems  of  public  in- 
struction established. 

Was  such  a man  a heathen?  Alas!  yes. 
The  great  Marquis  Tseng  worshipped  the 
Emperor  of  China.  He  had  to  do  it,  or  lose 
his  position  and  influence.  All  officials  of 
one  rank  worship  those  of  the  next  higher. 


5 

The  Emperor,  being  highest,  worships 
Heaven  and  earth. 

The  Marquis  Tseng  died  at  Tientsin.  In 
accordance  with  Chinese  custom,  his  body 
had  to  be  carried  to  its  native  city  for 
burial.  The  funeral  route  took  in  the  na- 
tive city  of  Shanghai  ; so,  of  course,  many 
preparations  were  ma^e  to  honor  the  dis- 
tinguished dead.  The  way  from  West  Gate 
to  the  Arsenal  was  an  avenue  of  flags — blue, 
green,  black,  red,  yellow,  and  white.  Sol- 
diers, in  their  gay  attire,  thronged  the  road- 
way. The  sultry  day  was  well-nigh  spent 
before  the  funeral  procession  appeared.  The 
missionaries  from  our  Margaret  Williamson 
Hospital  and  the  Bridgman  Memorial  School, 
took  advantage  of  this  excellent  opportunity 
to  distribute  tracts  and  Gospels  among  the 
soldiers. 

That  was  a busy  day  for  our/good  Bible- 
woman.  Many  and  interesting  were  the’ 
questions  they  asked  her.  Throwing  off  the 
characteristic  Chinese  reserve,  they  went 
inside  the  Hospital  grounds,  sat  on  the  steps, 
and  talked  freely  to  those  in  charge.  They 


6 


were  invited  to  the  Bridgman  Memorial 
Chapel,  to  attend  the  Wednesday  afternoon 
service.  Many  of  them  came,  and  ever 
since,  on  Sundays,  we  have  some  soldiers  in 
our  congregation. 

Who  can  tell  what  will  be  the  fruit  of  that 
day’s  seed-sowing  ? Who  will  be  converted 
by  means  of  the  tracts  given  to  them  on  the 
day  of  Marquis  Tseng’s  funeral  ? We  have 
the  promise,  “ My  Word  shall  not  return 
unto  me  void.” 

THE  MISSIONARY  LINK. 

Published  monthly,  is  the  organ  of  the  bociety. 

Price,  50  cts.  a year. 


OFFICERS  OF  THE 

WOMAN’S  UNION  MISSIONARY  SOCIETY. 

Mrs.  Hh:NRV  JOHNSON,  President. 

.Miss  S.  DORE.MUS,  Corresponding  Secretary. 

Miss  ELIZABETH  B.  STONE,  / . • , , 

c Assistant  Treasurers, 
Miss  M.  S.  .STONE,  ' 

.Miss  HELEN  LOUISE  KINGSBURY, 

Treasurer  MISSIONARY  Link. 


Mission  Room,  67  Bible  House, 
New  York. 


